Two strangers in an alley (Rocket and Groot)
by Woozletania
Summary: The tree in the alley was waiting. Waiting, and thinking how to escape the ugly alien city. And then another lost, hurt, and lonely soul wandered by. Note: While this story takes place on Hala, the Kree home world, this should not be taken as an indication that Rocket was made by the Kree. (Maybe he was, maybe he wasn't). How he ended up on Hala in prison garb is another


**\- Chapter 1: The Tree -**

"What the hell is that?"

"Oh, check out the new boy," his partner said good-naturedly. "That, son, is a tree."

"Don't give me that." The Kree policeman rapped the trunk of the tree with his shockstick. It was, as far as the eye and the thunk of metal on wood could say, a tree. "It wasn't here yesterday."

His partner raised an eyebrow. Like a minority of Kree he was blue-skinned. His partner's had the more common pink pigment. Both wore armored uniforms and carried a variety of weapons, though nothing as powerful as an Accuser's Universal Weapon. Like most cops they were prior military, assigned this task when their period of service ended and had extensive training. That didn't change the fact that his partner was gawking at a tree.

"Ron," he said, using a diminutive of Ron-Garr's name he knew he didn't like to poke fun at him, "It's a tree. There are a million of these alleys, you're probably thinking of another one."

"I guess." His partner gave the trunk a last kick. Though it was rooted in cracked pavement and anchored to the building by vines it didn't seem to be doing any real damage. And it wasn't an exaggeration to say that Kree-Lar had a million alleys. The city covered most of a continent and for many centuries had been the capital of the Kree Empire. Hala, the world it rested on, was one of the most strongly defended in the known universe. It was surrounded by orbital shipyards, spacedocks, defense fortresses and the Kree Home Fleet.

Just the same, and though large sections of the city had been destroyed in various wars and rebuilt, there were still old, run down districts. This was one of them. The alley was strewn with garbage from an overflowing trash bin and stank.

The two cops had a last look around before leaving. The tree waited until they were well away before opening his eyes.

"I am Groot," he muttered. _Now what?_ He'd evaded recapture after escaping from the specimen pen on the ship but though he'd made it out of the spaceport, he had no idea what to do next. This massive city extended to the horizon and didn't seem to have a single park where he could blend in. At least the locals, what few passed by this filthy alley, had no problems with the 'tree' growing up against one building.

"I am Groot." _Wait, and think._ He was good at waiting. Maybe not so good at thinking. Opinions varied. What he did have in abundance was time, and patience. He'd wait.

Several days later his long think was interrupted. A rattle from the garbage bin made him open his eyes. He was familiar with the four-legged and six-legged scavengers that sometimes roamed the alley. Occasionally there was even a two-legged one, though the Kree policed their cities so rigorously that those never lasted long. Groot didn't know what happened to the ones they caught and took away, but he hoped it was nothing bad.

This scavenger was a new type. It had two legs, mostly brown fur, a ringed tail and, from little of what he could see of it since it was burrowed into the garbage, clever little clawed hands. It pulled back out of the trash and settled down next to the bin, tearing into the half-rotten food it had found.

Groot felt an instant sense of compassion for the ragged little thing. It was only half the height of a Kree and wore a torn, almost worn out yellow prison jersey. Bolts showed at its collarbone where some sort of implants sank into the fur and even through the yellow outfit he could see its ribs. It was clearly starving, so desperate for food it ate whatever it found in the bin, no matter how vile or spoiled. Sharp teeth tore into the little food it had gathered and when it was done it looked around for danger then turned toward the bin again.

"I am Groot." _Are you hiding from the Kree too?_

It went wide-eyed with alarm as he spoke, hissed, and bared its fangs as it backed away. From somewhere it produced a jagged shard of metal with a scrap of cloth wrapped around it as a handle.

"Go 'way!" It growled, brandishing the knife. "My food!"

"I am Groot," Groot said, and sprouted a bud at the end of one finger. _Here._ It took a considerable metabolic effort to grow the sugars and starches of fruit but a peace offering was needed.

It watched wide-eyed as the pink and yellow fruit swelled, but backed away with a growl when Groot extended his hand. Only when his arm was at full extension and he couldn't possibly grab it did it dart forward, so hungry it dared approach and snatch the fruit.

It backed away again and sniffed suspiciously at the food, fearing a trick or poison, then tore into it. Fortunately Groot had made it seedless because the little scavenger ate it all in moments, rind and pulp. Then it looked at Groot again.

He could see the desperation in its eyes. It dared not approach but it was still so hungry. Whoever had hurt the little thing had left it so terrified and untrusting that only starvation made it approach at all.

"I am Groot," Groot said, and held up one finger. _I can only make one more fruit._ It wasn't something he normally did at all and too much of it could wear even him down.

"One, got it," the little thing growled, and settled down impatiently as Groot grew the second one. Even so, it refused to approach until he extended his arm to full length. His size and huge mouth must intimidate it but it couldn't keep itself from reacting as the fruit swelled ripe. Once again it snatched at from his branch and retreated to eat it, looking up to make sure he wasn't creeping up on as it ate.

So scared. It was so scared. He could see it had no one, nothing. Just the will to survive no matter how miserable its existence.

"I am Groot." _What did they do to you?_

"You said that," it said as it licked the fruit juice from its fur. "Can you say anything else?"

"I am Groot." _I am, but you don't understand._

"I guess not." With enough food in its belly to keep it alive a little longer it reached under the neck of its shirt and worried at something. Groot had a glimpse of a thick plastic collar. The little thing picked up its makeshift knife and lifted its towards its neck.

"I am Groot!" _Be careful, you'll hurt yourself!_

The inflection, the tone, something penetrated. Perhaps its keen animal hearing let it catch the meaning. "It's gotta come off. It's gotta." Carefully turning the blade sharp edge out it slid it between fur and plastic and sawed. Groot could see the marks of previous attempts. The plastic was so tough the knife only cut shallow grooves and working where it couldn't see the scavenger cut at a different part of it each time.

There were symbols set into the plastic. 8-9-P- and ones Groot couldn't see. A prisoner number? Or something else?

The little scavenger cursed as it cut its finger. Just then there was a footstep at the mouth of the alley. Groot gestured for the creature to hide but it was already scuttling around the corner on all fours, knife between its teeth.

A Kree policeman poked his nose into the alley, took a quick look around, tried the various doors to make sure they were locked, and left. Groot watched through mostly closed eyes. There were no homeless in Kree-Lar. None that lasted, anyway.

There was no sign of the little scavenger. Groot hoped it was all right. He hoped it had a place to hide. He didn't trust the Kree with prisoners of their own race. Who knew what they'd do to 89P.

 **\- Chapter 2: 89P... -**

Groot opened his eyes to the sound of something rooting through the trash. He hoped it was the lost little creature he'd give the fruit to. Instead it was just a pack of rats.

'Rat' was a universal label given to small, omnivorous creatures living off the leavings of civilization. There were half a dozen types here, some with more or less legs than these.

He didn't see the ringtailed creature until it was about to pounce. The metal shard of a knife pinned a rat to the ground and the others fled squealing as the first died on the blade.

Groot didn't eat meat. He subsisted on soil, some vegetable matter, the occasional insect and, here at least, garbage. He knew that others were more omnivorous and it did not surprise him when the ringtail backed into a corner with the dead rat and began to eat it. Desperately hungry, it couldn't afford to ignore a food source like vermin, cooked or not.

"I am Groot." _Raw meat may make you sick._

The scavenger shrugged. Unlike anyone Groot encountered since he was captured on Planet X, the little creature seemed to understand at least a little of what he said.

"Gotta eat," it said as it licked blood off its fur. It had torn the rat apart and eaten all but the head.

"I am Groot," Groot said, and held up a finger. _Fruit?_

"One? One is good," the scavenger said. It tensed as Groot extended his arm, still ready to run at the least sign of danger. It didn't know Groot could easily stretch out his hand and grab it. Groot wouldn't do that. The little ringtail was the only person he'd had to talk to in weeks and the last thing he'd do was scare it. It was scared enough already.

When it had snatched the fruit away and eaten it, the juice washing some of the blood off its hands, Groot spoke again.

"I, am, Groot." _Eight-Nine-P?_

"What?" The little thing stared at him in alarm, its cup-shaped ears swiveling back and flattening. "Say that again."

Groot did. "I, am, Groot."

"No. No!" The little thing grabbed at its collar in a frenzy and tried to pull it off over its head. It succeeded only in bruising itself. "No, Not Sub-Ject Eight-Nine-Papa-One-Three. Rok-ket," it growled. "Rok-ket."

"I am Gr-oot." _Roc-ket._

"That's right," it growled. "Don't you forget."

Groot wouldn't. Groot never forgot a friend.

It began to rain, a thin cold sleet from a leaden sky. Big droplets of icy water dripped from the buildings and he saw the little scavenger - Rocket - shiver. Thin fur on an underfed frame only provided so much protection. Rocket turned to pad away to whatever nook he hid in when he wasn't scavenging for food.

"I am Groot." _Dry._ The little ringtail turned and stared as Groot grew out a network of leafy tendrils, building a dry nest for his friend. For a moment Rocket hesitated, then scuttled away on all fours.

It - he - didn't trust Groot yet. He didn't trust anyone or anything. It was what kept him alive. Groot sighed, manipulating the vines of the nest so they seemed a random tangle of brush in case a policeman happened by. He'd save the material, though. Maybe one day soon his friend would trust him enough to use it.

 **\- Chapter 3: Working together -**

"I said, can you open it?"

Groot shook his head doubtfully. He'd lasted this long by blending in as a harmless tree. Breaking down a door seemed an alien concept.

"Look," the little scavenger said. "I've watched this door. No one in there. Just stuff. And I need stuff. I can do things with it. Maybe make somethin' useful."

"I am Groot." _I don't know about this._

"Trust me." This from the little ringtail that trusted no one and nothing. He still wouldn't come within what he thought was Groot's reach. Only the lure of the trash bin, the rats and the fruit Groot occasionally grew kept him as close as he was now.

The fruit was a bribe. He knew it, Groot knew it. A bribe to be friends. But even if Groot had loathed the little ringtail he wouldn't let it starve. He'd make more fruit if he could. He didn't want to watch Rocket die. It was hard enough watching him suffer, thin and cold and weak and unwilling to accept what shelter Groot could offer. And maybe there was food past that door.

"I am Groot." _All right._ Groot spread his tendrils over the door, working them into the cracks on all sides. Bit by bit he applied pressure. The door was strong and well fastened into its frame but the growing force of vines swelling between door and doorjamb was finally too much. With a metallic snap it popped open, swinging into the darkness beyond.

"All right!" Rocket scuttled forward on all fours, then hesitated. He had to pass right by Groot to get to the door. Understanding the fear, Groot backed away. He had to physically detach himself from the side of the building for the first time in weeks to do it and Rocket watched him suspiciously as he walked to the other side of the alley. From the doorway the little scavenger would be able to look over its shoulder and see him.

How much had they hurt him to make him so unwilling to let even Groot get close? Groot, who'd shown him nothing but kindness?

"I am Groot," Groot muttered, too low for even Rocket's keen ears to hear. _Trust is earned. Give it time._

Rocket scurried eagerly through the door and emerged a few minutes later with a tool bag and more tools held between his teeth. But no food. Groot hoped there'd be food. He could live indefinitely on just rainwater, soil and a bit of trash. Rocket needed more than that.

Just then a bushy-tailed rat - Groot remembered they were called 'squirrels' - scurried down the wall and leaped from a window ledge onto one of his branches. This happened a hundred times a day without issue. Rats climbed on and gnawed on him all the time.

This time, almost reflexively, he trapped in it his vines. He couldn't bring himself to kill it, but he held it and extended the vine to Rocket.

"For me?" Rocket was too hungry to be softhearted and brained the squirrel with a wrench before grabbing it and backing into a corner to eat it.

It broke Groot's heart to hurt something, even an animal, but Rocket was his friend. Rocket might not know that yet, but Groot did. And Rocket was starving. He needed more than garbage and a fruit or two a day to live.

So, it had happened. Groot had killed, or allowed to be killed, an innocent little animal to help his friend. He watched Rocket methodically devour the little squirrel. There was no going back now. He'd decided. He would hurt someone to help his friend. At least, he'd hurt an animal. He hoped he wouldn't have to do any worse.

With his bloody fur licked clean Rocket sorted his new tools, quickly fabricating a shoulder strap from an unused flap of the bag. For the first time Groot saw how good he was with his hands. They were almost magical in their ability to turn junk into treasure.

They were both so engrossed in watching him work that the attack came as a complete surprise.

\- **Chapter 4: Rats** -

It was a whole pack of the six-legged vermin Kree called hexrats. Each was the size of a housecat and they aggressively hunted smaller vermin and even, in packs, things several times their size. Rocket was several times their size.

Rocket was sorting tools, his eyes vacant as his clever little hands worked. He didn't know he was being crept up on until sharp teeth sank into his shoulder. He let out a hiss of agony and ripped the rat from his shoulder only to be swarmed under by a dozen more.

He'd never seen Rocket fight before. Hungry and weak as he was the ringtail was much stronger than he looked and killed two rats in quick succession, cutting one almost in half with his jagged little knife and shattering the other's skull with a wrench. There were at least half a dozen more and they ignored their losses, running up his legs and biting him repeatedly. He sank his fangs into the spine of a third before they pulled him down.

Rocket might have died there in that filthy alley were it not for Groot. Groot wasn't going to let his little friend die. A lash of vines sent the hexrats flying, one hitting the wall so hard it dropped stunned to the floor of the alley. Rocket, hurt and bleeding, rose to his knees and split its skull with the wrench.

"I am Groot?" _Are you all right? You're bleeding!_

"Don' be stupid," the ringtail slurred. He struggled to stand up, failed. "I'm fine," and then he fell over.

That was how Groot learned that hexrats are poisonous. They'd gnawed on him enough times without issue but Rocket was another story.

"Ge' away," Rocket moaned, shuddering where he lay. His eyes were glazed and he was foaming at the mouth. The other hexrats had long since fled, dragging their dead off to cannibalize, leaving Rocket in their wake. Rocket struggled once more to stand and fell over, hitting his head on the metal trash bin.

"I am Groot!" _Oh, no._ Rocket was hurt, maybe dying. Groot looked around for help but of course there wasn't any. Any Kree who happened by would be more likely to bash the little ringtail's head in than help him. There was no one to help. Only Groot.

"I am Groot," he said. _Here. I'm here._ Though Rocket feverishly clawed and bit at him he reached out with his tendrils. More vines writhed as he once again made the dry, warm little shelter and this time he pushed Rocket in. He had no medicine, no food for the ringtail, no doctor.

Well, he had no medicine and no doctor. He did have food. Groot dug his roots back into the creviced pavement and used all his resources to grow a fruit, then a second and even a third. Even feverish and feral the hungry raccoon ate them without hesitation, his body knowing it needed to eat to live. Rocket settled down into a shivering doze, trying to throw off the effects of the poison, and Groot arranged himself against the wall of the building once more in case a Kree came by. Producing so much fruit so quickly had weakened him as well, but he was still in much better shape than Rocket.

Groot had never treated wounds on an animal before. All he could think to do was rip shreds of cloth from Rocket's yellow jumper and press them against the bleeding bites, wrapping the wounds with a bit of moss to hold the crude bandages in place. That seemed to work well enough, but the poison was already in Rocket's veins. He would survive or die and there wasn't a thing Groot could do to help. All he could do was keep Rocket warm and dry and hope he recovered.

It had begun to rain again and he grew additional leaves to shield the ringtail. At the same time he gathered bits of vegetation from the garbage bin and ate them himself. Making fruit was a draining enterprise and he had to eat to replenish himself.

Twice over the next few hours Rocket shuddered in his sleep, whining and clawing at the leaves around him. He muttered words Groot couldn't make out. Names, maybe. Pleas to those who hurt him, asking them to stop?

Groot would grow familiar with Rocket's nightmares. The night terrors would haunt the little ringtail for years and whenever he was there Groot would try to soothe the sleeping raccoon. He'd learn only a little from Rocket's nocturnal ravings, but enough to grasp the terrible abuse that turned Rocket into the hurt little thing he was now. There was a reason he didn't trust anyone and the reason was horrible.

After a time Rocket settled down, breathing shallowly. But at least he was breathing. Groot did then something he'd never dreamed he'd do. He waited as a hexrat sniffed through the alley, then mercilessly strangled it and tore it to bits.

Rocket needed food. Though it nauseated him to touch the blood and to be the very cause of the blood, Groot fed the half-conscious raccoon scraps of warm meat until the ringtail was full. For the first time since they'd met Rocket wasn't hungry.

It helped. Bit by by Rocket recovered, but the poison still ran through his veins. It took another act Groot would never have contemplated to cure that ill.

 **\- Chapter 5: Escape -**

It was another Kree cop. The only Kree Groot saw were cops. These days, anyway. The few two-legged scavengers had long since been taken away to who knew where. Aliens were just as rare. Rocket, if he were an alien and not some Kree creation, was one of only two or three Groot had seen. Aliens were not welcome on Hala, much less in Kree-Lar.

The cop did the usual routine of checking the doors and scouting around for ne'er-do-wells. Luckily Groot had wedged the broken door shut with a vine so it still seemed locked.

But he'd forgotten Rocket's newly stolen tools in the stress of trying to keep his friend alive. The glint of polished metal drew the cop's eye and he bent over, seeing the tool bag and the clutter of wrenches Rocket dropped when he was attacked.

Two things happened at once. The cop looked up, staring straight into the little nest Groot made, and saw Rocket asleep. Not just an animal, but an animal in bloody prison clothing. An escaped alien, he must think, or an illegal experiment.

At that same moment Groot saw the little brass injector among the gear on the cop's belt and remembered when he saw it used the last time.

The cop reached for the communicator on his belt to report either Rocket or the tools and quick as a flash Groot shot out a vine. He had the cop by the shoulder and before the Kree could draw his sidearm he beat him into unconsciousness against the wall. Careful, as much as he could be, to not kill him, but he could not let the Kree call and he needed that injector.

He remembered seeing a Kree use an injector like that after being bitten by a hexrat. He didn't know if an antidote made for a Kree would work on Rocket, but he felt he had no choice. Rocket had recovered to a point but still lay shivering, wracked by the poison and too weak from malnutrition to throw off the effects on his own. Groot picked up the injector, hesitated, then shot the contents into the raccoon.

The result was almost immediate. Rocket hissed in pain, shuddered, then relaxed. For a moment Groot thought he'd killed his little friend, then Rocket's eyes opened.

"Ow..." Rocket came suddenly alert, realizing he was surrounded by vines and what those vines were made of. Frantically he clambered out of the snug little nest, or trap, as he probably saw it, but he was still too weak. He only managed to get his face out into the light, where he lay blinking at what was revealed.

The remains of the hexrat, torn apart. The red stain on Groot's fingers and on his own muzzle. The unconscious Kree cop, his belt pouches torn away. The spent brass injector of antidote in Groot's hand. And the plastic collar, cut off his neck as he slept with his own knife. Groot could get a better, more careful angle on the task than a man trying to cut the thing off himself.

"You did this..." Rocket felt his collarless neckfur wonderingly as he regained his strength. "You did it for me. Why? I never did nothing for you."

"I am Groot." _Because you needed help._

He didn't use the 'F' word. Rocket might not be to that point yet.

"Okay, maybe I did, But..." Rocket suddenly perked up as he realized what he was looking at. He scuttled out of the nest, impatiently pushing past Groot's hands as Groot tried to help the still weak raccoon. Rocket went straight to the Kree cop and rifled through his pockets.

"Palm locked," he said, and tossed aside the cop's sidearm. "And probably alarmed. Not worth the trouble. Let's see, gotta be here somewhere." He let out a shrill cry of triumph. "Jackpot!"

The little raccoon held up a ring of key cards. "Aircar key! An' this guy worked at the spaceport! This'll get us right past security!"

It took Groot a moment to realize what the expression was on Rocket's face. He'd never seen that muzzle twist like that before. Rocket was smiling.

The raccoon was still weak, but with a belly full of rat and a handful of key cards his enthusiasm was contagious. Groot even overlooked it when the Kree cop stirred where he lay and Rocket beat his head against the pavement until that stopped. As long as his friend left the cop breathing he'd tolerate a little excess. And after hiding from the Kree for who knew how long Rocket had some anger issues.

"C'mon," Rocket said as he gathered up his scattered tools and pilfered useful items from the cop. "We're not gonna get another chance like this. I'm not gonna rot in an alley on Hala when I got a chance to get away."

"I am Groot." _Me too?_

"'Course you too," Rocket said crossly. "You're too useful to leave behind. An' I'm not leaving you here. They figure out you knocked out a cop they'll turn you into kindling."

Five minutes later they were in the cop's stolen aircar and on their way to the spaceport. Rocket was good at bypassing security systems. With the car's key card and two minutes of work they were on their way.

"I thought I was gonna die in that alley," Rocket said as he followed the traffic lanes through the sky. Only once did he succumb to impulse and flash the police lights to get a slower aircar out of their way.

"An' maybe I would have," he growled. "But for you. So I'm not leaving you on this rock."

Below them was the spaceport civilian maintenance yard, chock full of ships from personal yachts all the way up to huge cargo carriers. The security was light here and no one raised an eyebrow when the cop cruiser descended. Rocket chose a spot out of view of the few workers on shift.

The raccoon hadn't uttered the 'F' word. That was all right. Actions spoke louder than words. Rocket trusted Groot now. He didn't flinch at being stuffed into a cockpit with a tree that filled all the space not occupied by a little raccoon. The lonely little scavenger finally had a friend. And so did Groot.

"C'mon bud," the little raccoon said with a grin as he slid out of the car. "Let's go steal a ship."


End file.
